


In the Time Where Everything Changes

by dramady, jeck



Category: Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-26
Updated: 2010-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-06 12:05:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John ends up where he didn't expect to, everything changes.<br/>[post T:TSCC series finale fic]</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Time Where Everything Changes

  
"You're going to be famous. My brother's back and you're wearing his jacket."

From that moment on, John couldn't help feeling that he was living in some kind of dream world. It was dark, smelly, dangerous, run by need and fear, but it still was a dream world for him. A human Cameron named Allison, he learned. Kyle Reese, who looked so different than John expected, all alive. Derek, one who was different than he'd known, but still Derek. All fighting. Doing what he'd been raised to do. And now he would do it.

John refused to let Derek out of his sight. He refused to let the older man (his uncle) shake him. Derek might not know him, but he knew Derek.

It took a while to get used to not showering. To food being scarce or tasting like cardboard. Clothes had to be scrounged for him and his boots were a size too big, but John didn't care. Tonight had been taking down an RK and John had followed Derek back into the barracks, his ears ringing some from the firefighting. He put down his gun on the cot he'd taken over and shrugged off his (own) jacket before sitting down, leaning back and closing his eyes.

It was then that Derek walked in though still talking to Kyle before waving him away. He laughed and then turned to see John leaning back, lashes thick on his closed eyes. "You all right?" He asked, leaning his gun by the wall and then shrugging his own jacket off. Kid did good, if he had to admit it. He did really well, actually and Derek was impressed. He didn't say that, of course, but it only served to heighten the curiosity that was already piqued when he appeared out of nowhere down in the tunnels. He didn't sit down but Derek did take that one step closer that he was towering over John, casting a shadow on his slim form.

"Yeah, I'm all right." Tired, but _alive_ in a way he hadn't been back in 2009. John opened his eyes to look up at him. "How many of those have you shot down?" Were they making any headway at all?

Derek shrugged. "No use keeping count. We shoot one down, they bring a new one in." The important part was they get rid of it. "Where'd you learn your weapons?" Derek couldn't contain it anymore. He had to know. His head was cocked and he crossed his arms over his chest, looking straight at John. He thought the boy was a tunnel rat much like a lot of younger ones that passed through here. Kids who where just looking for a safe place to be, a meal or two and that was it. He didn't expect the kid to be, well, like a soldier.

John looked away, then back at Derek, squinting up at him. "My mom taught me. She taught me everything." _And she didn't trust you_. He didn't say that, though. Sarah, wherever she was. Was she dying? She'd never answered the question.

"Your mom?" Although Derek was curious, he didn't bother to ask any more questions. John was here alone and it was safe to say his mother was most likely already dead. Almost everyone was. Just like their parents. It was always a touchy subject so Derek just shied away from it. John could tell him if he felt like it but he wouldn't push. "She taught you well." Taught him to survive from the looks of it.

"I know." There was the slightest smile that crossed John's face as he closed his eyes again. His muscles had ached in new ways since he'd been here, in the future. "Who taught you?" He asked. It was something he'd always been curious about.

Derek couldn't help his lips from quirking up. It wasn't much but it was a smile. "Not one person," he answered honestly, "You pick things up from people. Martin Bedell was the best teacher but a lot of the things I've learned came from out there--" Derek pointed up. It was a lot of instinct, too -- to protect, especially Kyle -- to survive.

Martin Bedell, who'd told John a secret, who John couldn't have let run. "Bedell." John hadn't seen him yet. Would he remember him? Derek didn't so why would Martin? "I'd love to take a shower," he said, smiling a little bit. "And have some pancakes," as Derek laughed. It was throaty, gruff and it made his eyes crinkle in the corners, baring his teeth, lips quirked in a smile.

"Don't we all, Connor." Derek said, shaking his head, the shower reminding him that he was filthy and the he needed to take his clothes off. "Second unit is on watch. Go to sleep. We don't get much around here but you take what you can." He said, turning around and pushing his shirt off until all that Derek was wearing was his undershirt, clinging to his chest, his frame, tattoos showing on his exposed arms.

John looked. And he looked, eyes tracing over the lines of Derek's shoulders and his back, tapering down to his waist. Would John ever be that strong? _Remember when you took me for ice cream?_ he wanted to ask, but even as he knew the answer, he fell asleep, still sitting up.

~~

"Connor." Derek shook John still lying in the cot. "Connor! Get up," he said, straightening up from where he crouched to wake John up. "Feel up to stand guard?" It wasn't really a question. "We're taking over Kyle and Wisher." He didn't wait. Derek put his jacket on and then hooked the strap of his plasma rifle over his shoulder.

Struggling to his feet, John grabbed his rifle and followed, still blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he did. He still didn't claim to know his way around the tunnels, and he kept close to Derek as he walked. He was getting better at not asking what time it was. What did time matter? The tunnels had a weird echo to them and he hung back as he saw Kyle. His father. After that first time he stared, he tried not to do that again.

Derek could feel eyes boring through him as he walked on ahead. No mistaking that was John. He'd noticed how the boy watched everyone closely. Observing. He smirked and glad that John couldn't see it. "Like the view?" He asked just as they crawled up the steps from the underground tunnel and to the makeshift manhole cover for the bunker that they had made. Once outside, Derek offered a hand to John to help him out of the narrow passageway. "I know it's your first time at watch. There's metal everywhere and we usually don't know when they come by, HKs, too. So we stay close and quiet." Derek guided John to the watch point they had, rocks and metal forming some sort of barrier with just a hole big enough for them to keep watch over the bunker entrance.

It was real, for sure. All very real. John knelt down next to Derek and looked around. So dark, so bleak, so much destruction. If he were less tired, he'd be more upset. As it was, he rested his rifle butt on the rock and looked around. There were distant sounds; explosions, the drone of motors. He didn't speak for a long time. He wanted to ask about Jesse. Was Riley here somewhere too? So much he didn't know, so much he wanted to know. But he didn't even know where to start, glancing over at Derek's profile every now and again. "Who's in charge?"

"Who's what?" Derek kept his voice low, wanting to scoff at the question. "Here it's me and Kyle. Some other place, another bunker? Who knows. Martin has one, too. There are others." Names, faces, Derek didn't really care. There were other humans and they all knew that they needed to depend on each other and help each other out because they were _NOT_ metal. Metal was the enemy.

"No one central... commander?" John asked. For some reason, that surprised him. "Do you communicate? Between the camps?" It seemed ineffective. "Where are the other camps? Do you know?" A lot of questions, he knew, but he needed to ask. He needed to know.

"I send Kyle." Derek answered with a sigh. Damn boy won't stop asking, he could tell. "Bunker leaders all talk. They decided the perimeter each covered, what tactics to use -- we communicate." That's the most he'd tell John. Most of it was none of his business, really.

Derek had no idea how much it was John's business. It was, after all, his life's ambition. "Are you able to set up a communication system?" There might not be the infrastructure left, but he had to ask. "Do you know of other camps in other states?" Or were they all alone in the world? (But Jesse had an accent that wasn't American.)

Yes, they were in communication. Yes they had contact outside of Los Angeles. No, there was no one commander but there were plenty of Military, ex-military, taking it upon themselves to train every human who volunteered to fight the machines. Was Derek going to tell John this. Fuck no. "There are others. Everywhere." Derek said, eyes intense on John and then he leaned in close -- closer -- "We all fight machines." He said, feeling his own breath blowing back from where he was so close to John's face.

"I know." John answered, and in the gloom, perhaps Derek couldn't see his blush. He was close. John was about to apologize, but he didn't. Derek might not know him, but he knew Derek and he needed to know this. "What was that?" He suddenly turned his attention back to the street in front of them. He thought he'd heard something.

Derek put a hand up and then he canted his head to one side, ears perked, listening carefully. He looked at John and then there was this sudden urge to push the kid aside and protect him. The hell?! He made sure he moved slowly, very slowly, peeking at the hole and watching the door to the bunker, making sure no metal or even human was anywhere near it.

Minutes ticked by and still there was nothing he could see or hear save for the muted sounds of RKs overhead. He leaned in to John, their shoulders pressed together and his lips too close to John's ear. "We're good. Go look." Had to train him, right? Best to start now.

Oh, God. John felt his heart suddenly in his throat and he stood up, shouldering his rifle strap, cocking the gun and he head out, head down. He staggered on a rock in the road and caught himself, waiting to hear another noise. To his left? He swiveled, to be ready. The night was like ink. He couldn't see and his finger was tight on the trigger as he took another step and another.

It wasn't, he realized, that different from being in the jungle as a kid.

Derek had his rifle at the ready, eyes darting every which way but always ending up on John. He listened intently, watched carefully, ready to shoot at a moment's notice if any metal would threaten the boy. The machines usually captured human,. not killed them--not until it got all the information it could get, until they'd wrung any human dry. A soft whistle-- the signal-- and Derek made a motion for John to come back. That was enough. And that was a good enough start. Derek was impressed. Any other tunnel rat would have peed their pants that first try. John was most noticeably not just a tunnel rat.

John turned back, swiveling and taking in everything as he retreated. He swore he heard something, but there wasn't anything.

Until the flash of light. "Derek!" he shouted. "Get down!" And he was running back to the protection of the rocks as the shots seemed to be landing just behind him as he ran (Just like with Charley at the dock, he thought blearily). "Get down!" And he dove for it.

Derek shoved his rifle to his back and with both hands he fisted them on John's jacket and hauling him to his back and then landing on top of him. "It was an RK overhead and if they stayed where they were, they'd be covered enough to hopefully not get noticed.

His cheek was pressed against John's, the space just enough to hide one person. He was panting harshly and then Derek whispered in John's ear. "Stay here." That was a fucking order. Derek shifted then stood heading out, rifle at the ready.

Like hell it was. John followed, crawling over the rubble to be right on Derek's tail. He had his back. He would, scanning behind himself as he followed. "It came from over there," he said in a whisper, loud enough to be heard, he hoped.

Derek turned around to glare. "I told you," his voice was low, a rough whisper but obviously annoyed," to say put!" God damned boy. But too late now. They were both out and fucking exposed. He pulled at John so they were pressed together and then looked the way he pointed, then made a motion for them to crouch and move. "The thing hovers in the air," he said, "you see it, don't wait. Shoot at the belly, and the propellers. There are three."

John nodded. Understood. They kept moving and he was crouched low, gun at the ready. He kept close to Derek and looked around as he did. In the dark, it was so hard to make out shapes. There was no way to tell sometimes. He jumped, aiming a few times before pulling back. This was real. Not a game. Real, he thought again. Not a game.

It was never a game. Derek kept his eyes open, his ears pealed and he stopped suddenly, a hand around John to grab his attention. Derek pointed to where a soft hum sounded. "Get ready," he said, quiet. And then out of nowhere it came, the RK hovering over them and Derek aimed his gun, shooting, his shoulder jerking back with each shot. There was no time to see if John was doing the same thing, no time to warn him, to tell him what to do. They needed to get rid of the fucker and Derek only hoped the boy knew enough by now to aim and shoot and fucking live.

When it fell, it fell with a boom and a crash and John's ears were ringing again as they ran from the ensuing explosion, getting blown forward and into some rocks that the boy could feel digging into his forearms and shins where he landed. But he was smiling. Hell, yes, he was smiling. They took it down.

He pulled Derek up by the sleeve to pull him farther away to a safer position.

Derek let himself get pulled and once they were out of the clearing and in a better hiding place, he faced the younger man. Derek was grinning. "Good job, soldier." Yeah. Good job. He put an arm around John in an awkward hug what with their positions and the guns across their backs.

There was something rushing through John's system. Something like pride and accomplishment. A real, true result. They'd defeated something! And it felt amazing! And Derek felt good. God. He stepped back after a second out of a different kind of self-preservation. "What now?"

He had to keep the laughter at bay but still, Derek's shoulders shook in mirth. "Now we go back there and wait some more." He hooked an arm around John's shoulders all the way round his neck and tugged him that way. "You shoot down an RK and you still want more action, huh?"

"Until there aren't any more? Yeah. I do." Until Skynet had been defeated. God, he felt _amazing_. And Derek felt warm and solid next to him. Good. John knew he should back away, but he didn't. No, he felt too _good_ "More." And he looked over at Derek's profile, strong, and _smiling_.

~*~*~

Weeks passed, something like that. John stopped thinking about time as he was used to it. He'd proven himself. He'd gotten to where he could look at Kyle and not blush. And he even talked to Allison a few times until it got so strange that he had to walk away. He'd not seen Weaver this whole time, nor Jesse or Riley. He didn't know. He just kept doing what he did, side by side with Derek.

Derek. Somewhere along the way, something he'd always known came to the forefront. _Derek_ was now the one he'd blush at when he looked at too long.

In the tunnels, modesty didn't exist and Derek would strip down after a watch, wipe himself down. John still tried to hide himself a little, but he couldn't help notice that he was getting stronger, leaner. More like Derek.

John pulled off his jacket and set down his rifle. "Quiet out there tonight."

Derek, naked, turned to face John. "Too quiet. Like something's up." He scowled but continued to clean himself up. "Don't let it -- _them_ fool you." He put his hand down from where he was pointing upward, above ground, eyes steady on John.

He'd been an asset to his squad, definitely and Derek put John under his wing and was teaching him all he knew, all he'd learned. He sat down on John's cot, closer, speaking in a hushed tone. "There's always something up. Don't let the quiet fool you."

"I know." Did he have to sit down _naked?_ God. John felt the heat from his collar, up. "I don't." He looked down at his knee, picking at a thin spot. "Do you think they have a plan? Skynet?" Oh, God, he could feel his mouth water for some reason. He wanted to _touch_.

Derek gave a dry laugh. "More than one, I'm sure. They're machines. They thought up every fucking scenario, every possibility and they're ready for it." Unfortunately. That was what happened when you dealt with machines.

Was it suddenly hot here? Considering Derek was naked and it was damp underground, he felt warm -- it was nice. Maybe it was John. He looked at him and smiled then put a hand on the young man's knee. "Go clean up. I'll scrounge up food." He stood then, finishing his cleaning up, right there in front of John.

And John stared. God help him, he stared. That this Derek smiled more never ceased to make his chest feel tight. He looked, between Derek's legs too, to what was there, heavy, he thought, warm to the touch. God, he was getting hard. He stood, turning his back as he shouldered off his jacket, then started on his shirt.

This Derek smiled more because this Derek still had Kyle. But no matter -- he was still deep down, a battle hardened soldier. He dressed up and then looked back and John, slapping the boy hard on the ass and chuckling. "Don't forget to wash behind your ears and get to all the hidden spots," Derek teased then left, looking for food to share with John.

Jarred forward by the slap, John flushed from his neck down this time. God, how _humiliating._ He wished he wasn't such a _kid_. Even if he didn't feel like a kid. Using his scrap of towel, he wiped his pits, and yeah, between his legs before dressing again, trying not to think of still being half-hard and wanting to do something about that.

Derek was back in no time with two brown box-like packages and looking at it, then at John. "I got beef stroganoff and meat loaf. Which one you want?" He headed straight for John's cot and sat down beside him. "I know where they kept the army issued food." He looked smug as he nudged John's side.

"Stroganoff," John was quick to say, reaching for the labeled box. Meat Loaf, bleh. "They still have army food? From before Judgment Day?" He pulled open the box, peering into it. Food in cans. He really missed his mom's cooking, believe it or not.

"This shit lasts for 50 years or something." Derek opened his and showed John how to use the special container to heat up the food just by adding a plastic packet and very little water. The whole thing steamed up in the bag. "Here. The meat loaf comes with this, you know, if you want it." It was a little Tabasco bottle. Derek kind of ducked his head after he offered it. What? He was sharing!

And it was nice, actually. When John took the little bottle, after his food was 'heating', his fingers grazed Derek's. They were rough. John's were getting rough too, dirty under the nails. John wondered what they felt like against his face. "Thanks."

They sat, eating quietly, shoulder to shoulder and maybe Derek leaned just a little against John. He really liked this kid. No bullshit with him and he was very open to knowing what it was like to fight the machines -- to be a resistance fighter. "You know," he started after another mouthful of that god awful meatloaf, "I'm pretty impressed with you." That was big, saying that. Derek wasn't much for praise.

Half of John's mouth raised in a grin. "Oh, yeah?" It was big praise and damned, but he knew it, too. He could feel his cheeks heat. Again. The stroganoff kind of tasted like cardboard. Thank God for the Tabasco sauce.

It was why Derek gave him the hot sauce. He nudged him again, a bit unsure what to say, really. "Good job." Yeah. High praise coming from Derek. He took another mouthful of food and made a face. "This tastes like shit. How's yours?" He eyed John's still steamy baggie of food.

"Like warm shit." And John started to laugh and laugh. Derek got him ice cream. God, ice cream. John would do a lot of things for ice cream. He set his little box on the floor and kicked it away with a grin. "I can cook up some chocolate chip cookies, huh? Let me just get my apron."

Derek laughed, too, and more because John's was infectious. "Kitchen's that way." He pointed his fork up, to ground level, to the machines. "Oven's already hot." It was odd to make fun of what was going on outside but it was a way to deal, Derek knew. He shook his head then canted it to the side. "You'd look good in an apron." He teased, waggling his brows and then taking the last few forkfuls of his meal, still looking intently at John.

"Yeah, right." More laughter, dimples in his smile, John looked down and back up. "You just like having my ass hanging out, huh?" And he even managed to waggle his eyebrows without feeling too much like a dork. "I've seen how you've been looking at me."

Derek smirked, not at all fazed at the comment John made. He picked up the discarded box John left on the floor, then his, intent on tossing it properly. But before he walked off, he took on step closer to John, leaning by his ear. "You're very observant, I'll give you that." It was all he said, and then Derek left the room.

~*~*~

John had gotten to a place when he could sleep sitting up, sleep for twenty minutes and wake up and be ready. He got used to being dirty, too. And he got used to being aroused around Derek. He got used to wanting him. But here they were, at the end of a watch shift and suddenly John turned and he and Derek were face to face and his breath caught. "What's up?" He asks, coming out gasped.

Derek was exhausted and could easily have fallen asleep. But you see, he'd found the perfect way to pass the time: When John wasn't looking, Derek would stare at him. He was good at it, too. Not getting caught. Well, til now. Boy was he slipping.

"Nothing." He shrugged but didn't look away, didn't even pull back. "What's up with you?" He smirked.

Literally? Something John didn't want to talk about. But maybe his blush gave him away. "N-nothing." Even under all the smells, he could smell Derek, that musk. He had no place to step back. God, he imagined that he could kiss him. It was insane, but that was all he wanted.

Huh. Couldn't've fooled him. "What's this then?" Derek touched John's cheek with his rough dingy fingers, sliding it down slowly, feeling the heat on his skin. "You thinking about sex?" It was common. Hell, they talked about it a whole damn lot up here. Then took it down to the barracks where they'd go on about their way to jerk off. It was normal. It was no big deal.

"Uh." John swallowed hard, and he nodded. "Yeah." Yeah. With Derek. He licked over his lower lip, eyes slipping to Derek's mouth and back up to his eyes.

It was dark but still, there was some kind of light that caught John's eyes. Derek could see him looking at him and his lips? They turned up at the corners just as he leaned closer still. "What're you thinking?" Yeah. Share. He was being evil, he knew, but hey, John needed to be educated to the way of the men in the barracks. He could jerk off in private and Derek would let him, leave him alone. It was like a rite of passage in some weird, resistance soldier way.

Oh, God. John was even feeling a little light-headed. He cleared his throat and he met Derek's gaze, part of him not believing he was actually saying, "you. Kissing you."

Well shit. "Guess we're thinking the same thing." Then Derek hooked his hand behind John's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. No more wondering now. The kiss was tentative, at first, and then Derek licked across John's lips before pushing in just a bit, testing, seeing if he'd open up.

There was a whimper somewhere in there, lost in the taste and John fumbled for a moment before he fisted his hands in Derek's coat and held on, leaning into the kiss. It was awkward, a little messy, but it was so good, after wondering for so long that John's head spun with it.

Derek's other arm wrapped around John and just as the kiss was getting interesting, intense and finding its rhythm, Derek's ears perked, hearing footfalls crunching on the ground. He pulled back abruptly, almost falling back on his ass, hands now fisted in John's shirt as he pushed the boy away. "Fuck!" He whispered sharply, looking deep into John's eyes as he let him go and Derek stepped away. Time to go.

Time to go. God. John was having trouble catching his breath, licking the taste from his mouth.

~*~*~

Derek lay wide awake on his cot that sat across from John's. From where he was he could hear the rhythmic sound of his slow breathing; the boy fast asleep. He was still haunted by that kiss they shared. Still thinking about it. It had left him wanting and with no relief. Slowly he got up, padding silently toward the other cot and it creaked as he crawled over John, laying over him, lips finding the other man's and kissing him, lips moving slow. God, he was getting hard already as he pressed his body down.

The first thing John felt? Panic. He was being _suffocated_. He struggled, pushing at the body over his, until he opened his eyes. "Derek?!" Oh. Oh, God. He gasped and flushed all over. "Derek? What are you doing?"

He pulled back. "What's it look like I'm doing?" Derek dipped his head back down and captured John's lips, kissing him more deeply, tongue plunging in. That should shut him up and make Derek's intentions clear. He started to grind down, now hard cock, unmistakable as he rocked his hips.

Oh, _God_. After a moment, John's arms slipped around his neck and he was kissing Derek back, kissing him back as much as he could, as deeply as he could. Oh, God, it felt and tasted so _good_. Oh, God. He groaned, hooking a leg around Derek's hips. The thin blanket got in the way, and he kicked at it until he came free.

Derek fumbled between them, fingers moving to unbutton pants, open, touch. God. He didn't stop kissing John, didn't stop moving over him until his breath caught, touching John, hand sliding inside his pants and Derek had to pull back, look into John's face, make sure this was okay -- that they both wanted this, too.

Something caught in John's throat and he stared back at Derek. Oh, God, please don't let him come just from this. He swallowed, hard, and just kept staring, gasping for breath between dry lips before he caught Derek's neck and pulled him back down, moaning into the kiss.

There was more fumbling and Derek freed himself this time. Even if their clothes were still partly in the way, he didn't care, not when the _need_ was too great. A large calloused hand wrapped around both their hard lengths and Derek started to squeeze, tug, pull. The moaning followed, muffled only because they were still kissing. _Still. Kissing_. All these, Derek didn't want to stop. He liked the feel of John under him like this, responding to his touch, kissing him _back_ even as the cot creaked with Derek's added weight and his frantic movements.

If it weren't for the constant hum of the tunnels, John would worry about the creaking. But then again, when Derek wrapped his hand around them both like that, and John could feel himself, those callouses and Derek's cock? A shudder ran along the length of his body and he groaned into the kiss, his hands fisting in the material of Derek's shirt. He wasn't going to last long at this rate.

And neither was Derek. He grunted low, pushed higher on his arm so that he had more room to maneuver, to stroke John and make him come, see him come. Damn Derek was too fucking close that he just might beat the boy to the punch already. "Come on... Come on!" He squeezed, pulled and then Derek shuddered. _Fuck!_

There was no way to keep track of time. None. All John could do was hold on to Derek shoulders until things behind his eyelids went white and he bit down on his lower lip to keep from screaming out something really embarrassing. He nearly drew blood, but any pain from that was entirely countered by how good this felt. It felt like... like nothing he'd known. Nothing with Riley was like this. He gasped as it felt like everything in his body was shooting out between his legs.

Long after Derek pulsed and spilled all over John, and John all over them both, he stayed there, lying over him, his forehead pressed to the younger man's shoulders. Once he'd regain his breath, he pushed off just enough to look at John's face. Derek smiled. It was slight but enough. "You okay?" He asked, as if what they had done wasn't out of the ordinary, wasn't the first time they'd _touched_ each other.

John nodded, licking over dry lips. "I'm okay.... Are you?" He asked. He didn't want it to be over. He wanted it to keep going, for Derek to stay close like this. Intimacy stolen, taken. _Are we?_

"Yeah." He was more the okay and Derek showed it by smiling at John. He didn't want to move off either so he stayed there, never mind that the cot seemed to be protesting against the added weight. Derek had John wrapped in his arms and then he dipped his head again and kissed him. Do it now before people began to wake and stir and look for them.

~*~*~

More time passed like this, stolen moments here and there, corners, crevices explored when there was a chance. Never on duty. Ever. The war came first.

John learned more and grew stronger. He was almost always hungry, but he got used to that too. And he craved Derek's kisses more than food, anyway.

The tunnels were as quiet as they got when he was tugged into a corner, against a hard body and he groaned, already reaching for Derek, for his kisses. It'd been over a day. He wanted, missing them when they couldn't find any privacy.

He had his hands fisted in John's jacket and he pushed him up against the wall with a dull thud. And then Derek was pressing over him, rubbing up, breath already coming in bursts. "Fuck, I've missed you." Damn, they needed to be alone for more than five minutes at a time, goddamn it.

"I missed you too." A harsh whispered answer. "I missed this." More kisses, hard enough nearly to split lips. John licked, he held tight, and he didn't let go, except they could hear hurried bootsteps coming toward them. He was still breathing hard when they were four feet apart.

~*~*~

Derek was shoving things in a pack--necessary things--like extra clothes, food (what he could scrounge up anyway), weapons. Derek scowled as he zipped up the pack. "Just a few days," he said, voice softer than he intended, looking at John. "Serrano Point isn't that far." Road there was dangerous though, he knew it. There was a huge possibility he wouldn't be back.

"I should go with you," John answered just as softly. He'd proven himself; people were impressed. There wasn't any reason he couldn't go. He didn't want Derek to go. He wanted to be be with him. There wasn't room for that kind of thinking and he knew it. But there were times, still, when he wasn't very strong.

Truth? Derek wanted John to say he'd go. He _hoped_. Besides _wanting_ to be with him, Derek knew that the boy was fucking smart. That it was the kind of strategic, detail oriented thinking they needed to plan out missions to destroy Skynet. That was what the meeting at Serrano Point was about. Whoever was head of a bunker, who had people at their disposal to fight, people that they also protect, they had decided amongst themselves to get together and fight together. As one human race. How? Well, that was the point of the meeting.

"Pack." Derek told him, his face fierce. "You're coming with me. I'll tell Kyle." Deep in his gut something told him that this was the right thing to do. Much as he wanted to protect John and keep him away from the firing line, he knew that this was something that they both had to do -- because of the war -- to end it and not just an excuse that they wanted to spend more time together even if that was deep, deep in the back of Derek's mind.

Moving as fast as he could, John had all of his stuff in his pack and his gun in under five minutes. YES, he was going. YES, he would go to the meeting and YES, he could be with Derek. He could DO this. The camps needed a leader. Maybe not him, but a leader nonetheless. He'd have his say and maybe he'd kiss Derek, too. Or more.

The road was dangerous. They ducked and ran, ducked and ran. All in all, it took two hours to go two miles, but they got there. Serrano Point. What his mom had fought for. (Was she all right? He wondered at odd times.)

They were let in by Resistance fighters guarding the gates, plasma rifles at the ready and was once or twice pointed at them. Derek only scowled and growled out his name but he understood that they all needed to be careful. The meeting went on for hours. Fucking _hours_ and during that time Derek stepped back and let John speak, state his opinion, give his recommendation, suggestions, everything. He was beaming by the time they were done. Yeah. Proud to say the least.

John wasn't sure they listened, but he tried, at least. He saw the looks. He was just a kid. He couldn't know anything, right? At least he hoped he proved that different. He was careful with what he said about the machines, trying not to arouse too much suspicion. But where to shoot, how to disable. That he could say. And he thought of Cameron. He still missed her at random times.

He was exhausted when the meeting was over. Proving yourself was hard work.

"You did good." Derek said soon as they were shown to a secluded corner of the plant, cots there ready for them. "Real good." He even clapped John's back before dropping his pack by the nearest bed. He put his hands to his hips and cocked his head. They were alone. At last. Now what would John do about that?

First, John would sit and take his boots off. They still didn't fit and they hurt. But then he looked up at Derek. "Thanks." And maybe he smirked just a little. What would Derek do about _that_?

That fucking look on John's face will be his death, he was sure. But what a fucking way to go. Of course, in reality, he'd rather die fighting -- but that was thought for another day. He sat at the edge of his cot and it creaked loud and he did the same thing. Boots off, then Jacket and then left with just a tight t-shirt and his pants, he moved to tug his belt off. What would John do now, huh? Derek's turn to smirk.

They would hear people walking back and forth in the hallways. It felt exposed. But John's mouth watered and he swallowed hard. He scooted back on the bed, leaving room for Derek sit down. To lie down, even.

Derek was staring at John. Yeah. He kept his eyes on him, every move he made, each time those lashes flicker down as he blinked, even the way his lips parted, that tongue peeked. It was almost erotic watching him. He smiled, face softer, losing the edge, relaxing. Yeah. They needed that after all that's happened today. "No one's gonna bother us." He told they young man. This he was sure. Everyone knew how taxing it was to coordinate missions and plan attacks -- Nope. No one would bug unless there was some attack.

He pointed to the space on the cot. "That an invitation?" Like he didn't know. Like he wouldn't just _take_.

John nodded, eyes never leaving Derek's face. An invitation. Maybe even a demand. No one would bother them? Then he'd take too.

~*~*~

Things were changing. Missions planned were executed close to flawless. Everyone was on the right page and everyone was working on one goal. To stop Skynet. Stop the machines. This was all because of John, Derek knew. He'd gained everyone's respect with his knowledge of tactics, strategies, and a more extensive knowledge about machines. They'd made Serrano Point the main headquarters, calling orders back and forth to the different infantries, cavalries, squad leaders. People were given military ranks, ID numbers, codes to get in and out without being labeled metal. To tell the difference between humans and those wanting to annihilate.

More and more time had been spent planning and more and more time had been lost between John and Derek. Derek would be on missions outside of Serrano Point and each time he left, there was no guarantee that he'd be back alive. Or even dead. You lay where you die here and it was only luck, Derek would say, that he was walking back through the gates with half of his men gone. Dead. But they succeeded in their mission to destroy a weapons vault.

When he heard that they were back, John went running toward the entrance, stopping when he saw Derek and his men come in. Something finally eased in his chest and he took a deep breath, reaching out a hand to lean against the wall for a second. Letting the others congratulate him first, John waited to catch Derek's eye and when he did, he nodded slowly.

Derek pressed his lips together and nodded once in understanding. He turned and left, then. Heading to a room that they shared, the same room they were given that first time that John joined Derek here. Once he was alone was then Derek collapsed on the cot, exhausted with his head in his hands.

He was alone a few minutes before John came in. He stood in front of Derek for a moment before crouching down, hands on Derek's knees and he urged his chin up. "Are you good?" He asked, quiet, careful and caring all at the same time.

It never got easier. Never. Derek will never get used to the deaths of people who relied on him to keep them alive. He wanted to shake his head but all he did was say, "I'll be fine." Always. He'd be fine. But he put a filthy, smudge, dirt, grime and blood soiled hand over John's on his knee, squeezing hard.

"You did well." Said quietly as John stared up at him. Finally, he stood, getting the canteen of water he had and a cloth, and he sat next to Derek, starting with his hands, cleaning each finger, each nail, each line. The cloth was dirty when he rinsed it again. "Take off your jacket."

Hand now clean, Derek cupped the back of John's neck and pressed their foreheads together. He stayed that way for a moment, grounding himself, grateful that he was still alive. He pulled back, finally, quietly, shrugging his jacket off like John had requested.

That let John push up his sleeves and clean his arms. Another wetting and wringing of the cloth and then, he turned Derek's face so that they were facing each other. Strong face, handsome. John wiped the dirt from it, then handed Derek the canteen. "Drink." He ran his hand over Derek's head.

A nod, and Derek took it, gulping water down while his eyes stayed on John. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then handed the canteen back to John. "You gotta go back." He thumbed out the door even if he'd rather they be together like this, here, but there was still a lot to get done.

He knew. John nodded. "Sleep." He palmed over Derek's cheek. "I'll be back, okay? You did well." It made a difference. Everything they did made a difference. "I'll be back." He stood, taking the canteen to bring more water back when he came.

Before John could leave, Derek grabbed on to his arm and tugged, standing up and pulling him to his chest. He kissed John then, slow. Very slow. _I love you,_ the kiss said but Derek didn't need to say it.

The reply was in John's eyes as he stepped out of the room to debrief, to get the next shift going before he could come back.

It was late when he did and John walked into the dark room quietly, kicking off his boots and shrugging off his jacket before he sat on the edge of Derek's cot. "It's me," he said, so Derek wouldn't jump too high, hand on his arm.

That arm jerked but John's weight over it stopped Derek from hurting him. He was drifting between sleep and wakefulness, not able to fully relax, to completely let sleep take him. "How'd it go?" He asked, voice rough from misuse while he shifted, making room.

As well as it ever did. In the gloom, John shrugged. "The other team got back. Some casualties, but they got some intel. We'll talk about it tomorrow." He palmed along Derek's jaw. Warm and strong and alive.

Then his hand slid down Derek's chest. Lower, between his legs, cupping there. His hands were rough now, too, like Derek's. He studied what he could see of his uncle's face.

Derek's breath hitched and his eyes fell shut, leaning toward John, pressing his forehead against his temple. His hips moved on its own volition even if his head was still grasping at what John had said. "Intel?" He wanted to know-- _needed_ to know -- how long this respite would last. He moaned softly, stifling that by pressing his face in John's hair. "John..."

"We have a way in." Weaver, who'd finally reappeared amidst the fighters. Who knew more than they'd ever thought possible. "We'll plan more tomorrow. You need to relax." And sleep. And he knew what would help Derek sleep. He started on Derek's belt and fly and zipper, pulling it down, to slip his hand inside and around warm, hard flesh, stroking. "That's an order."

That made Derek chuckle against John's skin but it quickly slipped into a deeper moan. "Yesss, sirrr..." God. He tried to reciprocate, reaching for John, fumbling with his fingers that, he hated to admit, were still shaking. "John..." Derek murmured again, his body trembling now, his breathing sharp pants.

"Not me. Just you." Pushing Derek's hand away, John stroked, using Derek's own pre-come to slick the way, even if he keeps it slow, grip tight. The sounds Derek made were deeply erotic because they were involuntary. John bent down to kiss him. "Just you."

There was no way he could control himself, no way to slip into the usual role of taking over. Not today. Not in a long while. John knew what Derek needed and he gave it each time. He may have been broader, more muscular even if John, since he got here, had obviously changed. Derek found himself clinging, holding on, his body tensing, then shaking, close to coming, close to falling completely apart.

He was beautiful, even if John could barely see him. He knew Derek's muscles would be bunched tight and his face would be drawn and when he heard that tell-tale hitch in his breathing, John slowed even more to draw his orgasm out as long as he could; even that had him close to coming himself. Hot fluid coated his hand as he pulled all he could out of him.

Breath coming in bursts, Derek could only shut his eyes tight and hold on to John. His hips had long since stopped rocking, his body limp, feeling boneless. It was then that Derek had the presence of mind to lean forward and touch his lips to John's, kissing him with a passion of someone that was lost, now found. "I love you." He said it softly, quiet, barely even there.

"I love you too." John can whisper it just for Derek. Then they can kiss some more before he goes to his own cot. The next day, they'd meet with Weaver, plan where to go from there. They'd win. And he would love Derek. When he'd stepped into that time bubble, he'd never have imagined. But they were there, then, and fighting. And winning. It was enough.

It was everything.

It was.

And John Connor, like Derek predicted when he first came, did become famous.

He saved the world.  



End file.
